


First drink, First kiss, First-

by Sinderlin



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Alcohol, Emotional Manipulation, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:09:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28781025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinderlin/pseuds/Sinderlin
Summary: Leon invites Hop to stay the night. He offers his little brother a drink. He has something to talk about.Leon loves his little brother very, very much, and Hop doesn't quite get a say in it.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Hop
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	First drink, First kiss, First-

**Author's Note:**

> if you catch the nod to a certain (in)famous leehop fic, you get a cookie
> 
> thank u very very much to my betas i lov u!

Even in the off-season, it was hard to get Leon to come back home to visit. He had television appearances, endless interviews, signing events, meet and greets, public events to attend, and personal obligations to deal with. Not to mention the fact that as the champion he was expected to rush in if any dangerous pokemon ever cropped up. With so few opportunities for time to himself, it was a wonder he was able to keep in touch at all. 

  
As glad as Hop was to have his texts, calls and videochats, he liked seeing him in person more; nothing was more fun than an afternoon of goofing off with his older brother just like they used to back when he lived in Postwick. Only half-jokingly, Hop suggested that instead of waiting for Leon's schedule to clear out enough to make the trek back for a night, he could just go up to Wyndon on the weekends and stay at Leon's. They could spend time together whenever Leon was free, and when he wasn't Hop could explore Wyndon or hang around in his apartment.

  
And so it went. To his surprise, their mum reluctantly agreed and Leon promised Hop that he wasn't being an imposition. They'd catch corviknight cabs and always make sure Hop was home by Sunday night. The couch was a good enough guest bed for Hop even though Leon would've gladly given up his own bed, the fridge was always fully stocked with anything Hop requested beforehand and more, and he didn't even mind if Hop borrowed his shampoo. They were finally catching up on the bonding they'd both obviously sorely missed, even if it was just an evening or two a week. It was perfect.

  
This weekend Leon had more time off than usual; no appearances scheduled, no emergency calls, obligations either taken care of or pushed aside. All morning, Leon had let Hop drag him around the city by the wrist, darting into stores to see what the big-city trends were. They'd hardly even stopped to breathe, Leon hurriedly waving off the occasional fan in spite of Hop's insistence that it was _fine_. Leon always indulged his fans, always basked in their praise and excitement, so Hop was used to waiting and watching patiently. Not today, though. In fact, more and more since he'd started staying over, Leon was becoming briefer with the throngs of fans. Not bashful and overwhelmed like Hop remembered he was at first. Just… Different? It made a tension he'd never been aware of drain out of his muscles and let him boldly pretend that they were just two normal brothers tearing down the sidewalks. Not famous, not nobodies, just Hop and Leon.

  
Afternoon flew by just as fast, a trip to the movie theater and a stop at a highfalutin creperie eating up the rest of the daylight. It didn't bother Hop that all of this was just daily life for Leon. It didn't. It bothered him that it wasn't his, too.

  
"You could probably afford a bigger place," Hop commented when they returned, leaning against the wall just inside the door to wiggle off his trainers, "I mean, I'm pretty sure the last champion bought a townhouse."

  
"I don't know, I kind of like my little flat?" Leon locked the door behind them and knelt down to untie his shoes properly, "It's cozy. I don't need that much space, and there are other things I could spend my winnings on."

  
"I guess." Hanging his jacket up on the hall tree, Hop strolled to the small living room and parked himself on the couch that would be his bed for the next two nights.

  
"Hey, you just blocked my joke!" Leon followed, faux-pouting, "You're supposed to say 'Like what?'"

  
Tilting his head back and wrinkling his nose, Hop scoffed quietly. "Alright, fine. Like what?"

  
"You~," Leon reigned in his cheesy grin and fluttered his eyelashes, leaning over the side of the couch to really bask in Hop's classic annoyed-little-brother groan. Resting his weight on his elbow on the back behind his brother's head, he relaxed into his usual lackadaisical smile. "Really, though! If there's anything you ever need-or just want-just let me know. I've got you."

  
"I'm fiiiine," Hop pulled his feet up onto the couch and slapped at the cushion beside him, encouraging Leon to sit down, "and besides, I'll be dethroning you soon enough, so it's probably for the best to have savings. Then I'll be the one hovering over you and asking if you're _really_ sure there's nothing you want from the mall!" Giving a cocky little even grin, he laced his fingers together and stretched out his arms until his elbows popped, settling further into the cushions.

  
"I'll look forward to it," Leon slung right back, giving Hop's hair a ruffle before slipping around the corner to the kitchen. He'd sit down in a moment, but first he had to grab something of a special 'gift' he was looking forward to giving him all day long. Or maybe all week long? Maybe longer, it was hard to really say when he'd started thinking about trying this. The babble of a newscaster abruptly picked up mid sentence, cut out again to cartoonish music, and it seemed Hop finally settled on a cooking show for the time being. The cold brown bottles frosted over as he pulled them from the fridge, the smiling pumpkaboo on the label immediately obscured by the condensation. The caps came off with a crisp hiss, both frothing up dangerously for a moment.

  
With a bottle in each hand, Leon sauntered back out into the living room and finally took a seat beside his little brother. Hop's nervous, questioning look subsided as Leon took a swig and held one of the bottles out for him. Leon's always been cool, lax, confident. It'll be safe, it'll be fun, their mum won't be there to get angry or judge. Better than around strangers who might make fun of him or do something bad, and Hop's always been curious. Accepting the bottle, Hop chews his lip for a moment, bounces his knee, then knocks it back like he has something to prove.

  
And immediately gags and feels the tingling carbonation burning his nose as the bitterness of beer coats his tongue in a fuzzy feeling.

  
"Don't like it?" Leon asks, hiding his grin in his palm, "It's supposed to be pumpkin pie flavor. Autumn exclusive. It might take some getting used to, but you don't have to drink it."

  
"Love it," Hop coughs, sniffing hard and rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Lee, is this an acquired taste? I don't really wanna acquire it."

  
Leon's eyes narrow with his poorly hidden amusement, his elbows digging into his knees. So cute. It was the sweetest and most...beginner friendly? beer that he could find, and Hop still couldn't stomach it. He plucked the bottle out of Hop's hand and rocked off the couch, pulling his lips between his teeth in an even more thinly veiled attempt to hide his smile, intending to put them back in the fridge when he felt a hand on his hip trying to stop him.

  
"No, come on, it's fine. I'll get used to it! It's just," Hop is laughing at himself too, Leon can hear it in his voice, "new. It's weird. How often do you drink that stuff?" His cheeks are a little pink from embarrassment when Leon looks, eyebrows drawn up like he's silently apologizing for being a dweeb. If his hands weren't full, he'd-Hell, Leon shifts both beers into one hand precariously and ruffles Hop's hair with a snort.

  
"I actually got something light just for you to try for your first drink. I usually have mixed drinks," Leon admitted, shrugging, "Don't go spreading it around, but I usually just have spiked punch. So-called girly drinks just taste better!" Hop mirrored his shrug, at a loss for a snappy quip. His big honey-brown eyes followed Leon until he disappeared around the corner to the kitchen, his hands busy fixing his ruined hairdo. The beer bottles went back into the fridge and the fruit punch and vodka came out in their place, sloshing ominously when he thumped them onto the counter. In the cabinet full of glasses, his hands hovered over his set of small tumblers for a long moment before twitching down a shelf to the regular water glasses. If he was going to do this, he was going to _really_ do it.

  
Normally it'd be a glass full of punch with two shots of vodka in it, maybe halved with tonic water if he was feeling like a mixologist that night, but the goal tonight wasn't to get tipsy watching sitcoms. The grooves of the bottle caps bit into his finger-pads, scraping at his skin as he twisted roughly. A voice he vaguely recognized as a television personality walked viewers through the process of how a popular local bakery made banoffee pies as he glugged eye-burningly strong vodka into the glass. Three, maybe four shots. Maybe five. Six? The artificial fruit of the punch drowned out the astringent alcoholic smell for the most part and would mask the worst of the taste. He would know. The second glass, he held the vodka bottle by the neck and stared down at the laminate floor. His left sock had a tiny hole at the edge of the big toe, he'd have to throw them out soon. One shot. Two. Punch. Three shots.

  
After sloppily stirring each drink and tossing the spoon into the sink, Leon hovered at the threshold of the kitchen. Looked at the drinks in his hands. Examined the slightly scuffed wood flooring under his socked feet. His heart wasn't in his throat, just fluttering behind his ribs. The presenter described how the bakery always got overnight imports of nanab berries to ensure maximum quality and freshness. The slickness of his palms was only because of the condensation on the cold glass. 

  
"One for you," Leon announced as he re-entered the living room and set one glass onto the coffee table, "and one for me." They both took a sip in unison, Leon not even bothering to stifle his guffaw in spite of the splatter of spiked punch it sent out when Hop reeled back from his drink in shock.

  
"Whoa, did you upend the whole bottle into this?!" Hop sputtered, one eye squeezed shut with the force of his grimace, "Do you always make them this strong or did you just want to freak me out? Is this, um, what was it. _Scared straight_?"

  
Again, so _adorable_.

  
"Sorry, I guess I just wasn't thinking and made them like I usually do," Leon grabbed a tissue and wiped up the splatter from his drink, grinning bashfully. From the corner of his eye he saw Hop look between his glass and his brother, grimace shifting into a doubtful frown. Taking a gulp of his drink and not spraying it out his nose this time, Leon demonstrated that he could handle it just fine. "I got the beer because I thought it would be easy on you, but I'm so used to just kinda dumping it in when I make mixers...I was on autopilot. Do you want me to make you a new one?" The wadded-up tissue made a barely-audible plunk in the plastic trash can beside the couch. Hop's brow wrinkled and unwrinkled and wrinkled again. The bakery apparently used fresh miltank milk to make in-house dulce de leche for the pies.

  
Leon realized he was breathing too shallowly and switched to breathing too deeply instead.

  
"Um, it's fine. I'm just not used to it," Hop gagged a little as he tried to take as hearty of a swig as Leon had, a line of vibrant pink running out of his nose. He scrambled to wipe his shame away with a tissue, grateful for the lack of laughter filling the gap between words. Leon's wide, warm hand landed between his shoulder blades, rubbing up and down his spine until he finished blowing the punch out of his nose.

  
"You don't have to force yourself. You don't have to have any at all if you don't want to," Leon reassured him, dark gold eyes flicking over his face. The soothing motion of his hand slowed the slight hitches of Hop's shoulders until his little brother was just hunched and holding his glass knee-to-knee with him.

  
In lieu of a reply, Hop brought the glass to his lips and took a long slow sip, his back only jolting once with the seize of not-quite-disgust under Leon's palm. The warm, reassuring weight and the lack of judgement were enough to encourage him to keep trying; the assurance that he didn't have to try it at all was enough. It _was_ becoming more appealing the longer he drank it, too. It numbed his tongue and gums, leaving behind a burning sweetness that settled against the inside of his ribs and curled into the bottom of his stomach. His nose still burned, but it was bearable now. His brother didn't press him for a response, so he turned his attention back to the television and took occasional sips, making himself comfortable against his brother's side like he used to before he left on his journey.

  
For as intently as he felt he was watching the program, it all seemed to pass in a blur. Before he knew it, they'd finished with the whipped cream and wrapped up the bakery showcase and moved on to a special about one of the massively popular battle cafes. He'd never known how complicated and impressive the behind-the-scenes action of running a battle café could be, though he couldn't quite follow the quick-talking café owner or the fast-handed barista. The lower the level of the liquid in his glass fell, the less he could recall the questions the host had just asked the pair during the interview portion. It was almost funny how nonsensical everything suddenly seemed, warm and safe and tingly under his brother's arm. The years of being alone felt so far away all of the sudden, like Leon had never left.

  
Despite the cozy heat and pressure and the comfortingly familiar scent lulling Hop into a trance, increasing discomfort mounted in his lower stomach. For a second it was alien, then with sudden alarm and shame he realized the issue. He had to pee so, _so_ bad. Squirming out from under Leon's arm and jumping up so quickly he clonked the top of his skull into Leon's nose and smacked his shin into the edge of the coffee table, Hop flailed for the bathroom with a bitten-back curse. Hopping with his hand clasped over the budding bruise, he limped to where he remembered the bathroom was last time and fumbled with the toilet lid before desperately slapping it upward in a frustrated bid to overcome his battle with gravity. 

  
While Hop spazzed out during his first time drinking, Leon solemnly got up to grab a water bottle out of the fridge for him and stood outside the door, waiting until he'd finished to duck in and grab a tylenol for his inevitable hangover and minor injury. Hop would probably take offense to an offer to help him use the restroom and there wasn't much help he could offer otherwise aside from this. He hoped that Hop was at least enjoying the experience thus far...

  
"Ah!" Hop yelped as he whipped around the doorframe and shoulder-checked Leon on his way out of the bathroom, "Sorry, Lee! I didn't see-I wasn't looking-Um, you, are you okay?" He stumbled back, leaning against the beige hallway wall beside the framed family photograph Leon had hung in an attempt to make the single-male-living-space feel more lived in.

  
"Wash your hands, little man," Leon sighed adoringly, mentally comparing his little brother of four years ago from behind the glass to the barely-teen boy swaying like a reed in the breeze before him. "I barely even felt it, don't worry about it. I'm just grabbing some stuff in case you get a hangover later." His eyes narrowed with affection and I-know-something-you-don't, his hand twitching with the urge to ruffle Hop's hair all up into a dandelion pouf like he hated.

  
With an expression like a dial-up modem restarting, Hop stood staring into the middle-distance with his face pointed at his older brother's substantial chest for half a minute before something lit up behind his eyes. He darted back into the bathroom, smacking his shoulder against the doorframe with a yelp. Although sloppily, he did actually manage to turn the water on and suds up his hands without splashing water all over the floor. Impressive, in a way. In time he'd learn how to avoid dinging himself on every turn when he got drunk, too. Wiping his wet hands off on his jeans in spite of the hand-towel hanging beside the sink, Hop slipped back out of the bathroom with an embarrassed blush highlighted by the evening light filling the short hall.

  
Leon's heart throbbed.

  
With a couple of off-brand painkillers from the medicine cabinet in hand, Leon ducked into his bedroom to set up the hangover kit on his bedside table just in case. Well, it was more like Hop was absolutely going to be waking up with a hangover, but he was just being optimistic about the location he would be waking up in. Pursing his lips and looking around for a moment, he pulled the little trash can out from under the cheap writing desk he mostly used for tossing random junk onto and set it beside the bed. Yeah, that was good, that was considerate.

  
Diligently waiting with his mostly-empty glass clasped in his lap, Hop was zoning out sprawled across the couch when Leon returned. Hop looked up at him through dark, thick lashes when he snagged his glass, intending to refill it...but those dewy, distant points of darkness in his eyes make him reconsider. Just punch this time. This is enough. It'll have to be enough. Hop lolls his head over the arm of the couch to watch him disappear back into the kitchen, his faint smile tipped sideways and red-stained from the artificially colored juice. While Leon fills their glasses up with fruit punch, he lets his mind wander back to the way the tendons stood out on Hop's neck.

  
One of Hop's feet was up on the back of the couch when he got back, one arm tucked behind his head, one hand rubbing his clavicle like he was trying to work out a knot. The television drones on, the cafe program coming to a close and a limited ingredient challenge cooking competition show he normally quite liked began in the time he spent taking in every little movement. Hop's fingertips dipped under his collar to scratch an itch, his hips tilted with a lazy stretch, his socked foot tapped on the cushions in an impatient staccato. A part of Leon wanted to live in this small moment of voyeurism forever.

  
"Mind making a bit of room?" Leon asked, setting the glasses down. Air rushed out his nose in a snort of amusement when Hop threw his legs up and nearly rolled off the couch in an effort to immediately make space. Grabbing Hop by the shoulder and yanking him right up into his ribs to stabilize him, Leon thumped himself down into the cushions and continued, "You don't have to go that far, hip-hop. Just relax, okay? This is supposed to be fun."

  
"It is fun!" Hop immediately interjected, wriggling up out of Leon's armpit to use his shoulder as a pillow, "I'm having fun! I just don't...my arms-my body isn't doing what I want? But it's funny." He didn't laugh, frowning at his own hands in his lap before attempting to draw his legs up onto the couch and put them over Leon's lap, instead summarily kneeing him in the thigh and nearly kicking his arm. A mirror image of the exact same grimace appeared on their faces.

  
Letting Leon properly arrange him for optimal cuddling this time, Hop nuzzled into the warm muscle and huffed a quiet, almost annoyed "I'm having fun."

  
By the time the competitive cooking show wrapped up, Leon was making mental notes on how to make a three course meal from canned sausage and wilted spinach, and Hop was nodding off against his shoulder with his glass of punch untouched. His bottom lip was pink-stained and spit-glossy, the first thing Leon noticed when he turned his attention away from the television to suggest changing the channel or starting up a game. If he just dipped down a few scant inches, he could just...take. He could take that flush lip between his teeth, taste his little brother on his tongue, push a little further and take and take and-No. That's not what this was supposed to be. Sweat prickled on his spine as he gently shook Hop back to wakefulness.

  
"Hop," Leon urged as Hop groggily rubbed at his eyes and yawned, "Can I...talk to you about something?" Every other time he'd imagined bringing this up, his heart had thundered under his lungs until his head hurt and his stomach twisted into knots, but now he felt an eerie calm down to his bones.

  
"Muh?" Hop raised and lowered his head in a syrupy-slow nod.

  
"I've wanted to tell you this for so, so long. I've been...scared, I guess. Scared you'd hate me for it and think I'm disgusting and never want to see me again. So, " He took a deep breath, watching Hop's bleary eyes almost cross with the effort to focus on what his little brother was rapidly realizing was a very serious discussion, "I figured it'd be for the best if. If you hate it and want to just forget all about it, we can blame the alcohol and pretend I never said anything and. Uh." His heartbeat is alarmingly even, though his fingertips feel numb. "If you feel the same, we can, um. Try some stuff out."

  
Hop blinked carefully and furrowed his brow. His lips pursed, drew away from his teeth, and relaxed. "Okay? It's cool, Lee. Sure. That's fine."

  
"Really? I-wow, wait, I-" Leon beamed and inadvertently yanked Hop tight to his ribs with the arm wrapped around his shoulders in a gleeful spasm. The tiny uncomfortable squeak spiked through his body like adrenaline. Loosening his grip and schooling his elated grin into a more manageable smile, he tried again. "I mean to say that I love you. Like, _love you_ love you. I mean, I know most people have certain ideas about love between blood relatives, but. I mean. I won't lie to you, everyone has certain, um, _fantasies_ about their crushes, but I wouldn't push you for that if you're not comfortable with it. We can just keep things wholesome and purely romantic and-"

  
"Huh?" Hop interjected more forcefully than he meant to, face smushed into the side of Leon's chest, feeling like a carrot stuck to the bottom of a pot of curry. The way Leon's face immediately fell threw him for a loop; maybe he was just misunderstanding? 

  
"Are you asking me out?" 

  
Leon nodded. 

  
Hop's thoughts came up like the bubbles in roux, the thick paste of his brain holding the tension until they surfaced and exploded with a tiny pop. "We can't be in a relationship. We're family. Lee, everyone would freak out." His line of vision narrowed, and he found he'd narrowed his eyes when he brought his hand up to check why his lower eyelids felt so tight.

  
"Nobody would have to _see_ anything, though! We could keep it under wraps and only be _together_ in private, like this." Leon hastily explained, brows knit in spite of his returning grin, "We can just play siblings in public."

  
The feeling of swimming in molasses intensified, the whole world tilting with his head. Or maybe he was moving too fast, like a car with no brakes, spinning out on ice. "Lee. We're not playing, we _are_ siblings." Briefly, his eyes drifted back to the ads on the television, uncomprehending.

  
"I can't help how I feel, I just-" Leon huffed immediately, his grin flashing into a grimace with a press of his palm to his chest, "I had to get it out before I lost my mind."

  
Hop cocked his head, gasping. His hands lay in his lap, dead fish, unmoving. "I think you already did? It was cool of you to let me drink at your place but this is... this is weird?" Logically, he should be slipping out from under his brother's arm and gathering up his things for a mad dash home even if it was late and he was drunk, but-But he was drunk and warm and looking forward to falling asleep against his brother's plush chest once he dropped the issue.

  
Exasperated, Leon raked a hand through his hair, miraculously avoiding any tangles with that preternatural smoothness he seemed to possess. "Come on, you don't even find me attractive? Objectively. And don't we always have a ton of fun together? We get on so well." The earnest desperation for even a modicum of understanding was painful to look at directly, but looking away from his molten eyes flashing with television light felt like it might stab Hop right in the heart.

  
"Well...objectively. Hot," Hop agreed, gritting his teeth and avoiding the way his eyes wavered between his brother's, overflowing with raw emotion, and his brother's carefully sculpted chest that he kept coming dangerously close to collapsing back into. "And yeah, but siblings _should_ get along. We're brothers and we get each other." He shrugged, boiling inside his skin. 

  
"Exactly! Like nobody else! And you're _painfully_ cute and handsome and sweet and-" Leon gushed immediately, his eyes melting into dewy fondness until Hop finally made use of his limp hands and slapped one over an approximation of where his mouth should be. Leon jolted in surprise, Hop's fingers splayed from one eye to his jawline, his skinny wrist just barely resting against his lips.

  
"OKAY, I get it," Hop grunted, distantly glad that Leon had the idea to give his little brother alcohol before springing this on him. At least he was probably blackout drunk at this point. There was no way he'd remember any of this horrifying, mortifying tripe. Leon took the little wrist thrown into his face in a much larger, less steady hand; dragging it down the warm cotton of his shirt until Hop's hand rested just beside his brother's breastbone. He felt the staccato flutter beneath the muscle and bone and sinew and warmth under his palm and oh _no_ , he gets it.

  
"Do you feel what you do to me whenever we're alone together?" Leon asked, the gravity of his words dragging his voice down an octave into a rough whisper. 

  
"Yeah," Hop replied instantly, dumbly, unthinking. Standing on the deck of a ship mid-storm might feel something like this, he imagines, or trying to get a fledgling spearrow to use Fly. Leon's hand easily fully encircled his wrist, gently but firmly holding him flush to the muscle he's spent years building and toning, staring him down with intense honey-brown eyes half of Galar would kill to have trained on them. Leon is _serious_. He means it, he really _is_ good-looking, and they _do_ get along better than anyone else, but so what?

  
"So we're perfect for each other!" Leon insisted, his heart stuttering under Hop's palm. 

  
Ah, he'd said that out loud by accident. If he wasn't wading through maple syrup right now he might be able to come up with a halfway decent argument, but as it stood, yeah. They're a good fit, aside from being siblings, and if they managed to keep it all a secret--but Hop doesn't even like him like that!--but he _is_ attractive, everyone he'd ever met had told him so. Even Hop couldn't deny it. And, it did feel nice to be held tight in his big brother's arms like this, even if the situation made his hindbrain itch and tingle with suppressed nerves. Maybe this was just some weird thing that gets into peoples' heads when they get drunk, and if they even remember it come morning they'll just awkwardly laugh it off and move on.

  
"Maybe," Hop whispered, sucking his lip between his teeth worriedly, "We can just. Try a little? And see how we feel. You're...really cool, and being around you feels… Nice, so." 

  
Leon's grip shifted around his wrist at the soft pop of his teeth releasing his lip, fingertips tracing his pulse-point. Leon's chest had stopped moving under his palm, Hop's big brother turned into a royal purple haze in the corner of his bleary vision. "Just don't tell _anyone_!"

  
Leon's chest puffed under his hand, his smile so wide it creased his glittering eyes. Rolling his shoulders back. He slowly let his breath out through his nose, pink-cheeked and dreamy. He nodded. "Mm, nobody has to know." 

  
Finally, he released Hop's hand, placing his fingertips on Hop's knee cautiously. Slipping his palm up to perch on the warm denim of his jeans. Snaking the arm around Hop's shoulders to tip up his chin, thumb on his jaw and pinky on his jugular. His lidded-eyed rosy-flushed face encroached, his smile subdued but ever present as if he's just enjoying pushing further into Hop's space for as long as he'd be tolerated. When he keeps coming, filling the filmy slide of the room in Hop's eyes, he could only think to slam his eyes shut and purse his lips, fishlike, before he could be subject to the dreaded open-eyed open-mouthed kiss.

  
"Chill out," Leon snorted, his breath brushing warm and moist over Hop's chin, "If you're not sure what to do, just follow my lead."

  
"Okay." His fingers clumsily attempted to twine in his lap, knuckle to knuckle, joints bumping into mirror joints. Hop does his best to relax, unpursing his lips and focusing on the big warm palm encompassing his knee until the worst of the tension passes. Still refusing to open his eyes, however, Hop finds himself remarkably unbothered at the first ginger little peck to his cheek. It just reminded him of being doted on and smothered like he'd be when he was little any time Leon came back for a weekend. Another skirts the corner of his mouth; he wants to pull away and squeal at Leon to stop being gross instinctively, but he'd promised to try it. Silky skin brushes against his lips, warm breath flooding his mouth. More uncomfortable with the fact that he doesn't feel _that_ uncomfortable, he doesn't recoil when the breath becomes a warm press of lips to lips.

  
Leon's thumb rubbed comfortingly over the top of Hop's knee, a welcome distraction that leeches away the nervous tension bubbling in his gut. His kisses, even tiny and sparse, are gentle and slow enough to acclimate to that Hop stops worrying he might get forced back into the couch and swallowed whole. Of course he wouldn't, he'd never, it's still Leon. This was a little weird, out of the blue, confusing, but this is all just Leon. It's really okay. Unexpected. Maybe nice? A bit like cuddling before bedtime when they were small.

  
"So? How are you feeling?" Leon's lips formed the words against his, flowing into his mouth and lungs.

  
"Alright. Warm," Hop replied, picturing the air from his lungs settling in Leon's chest, "Kinda sleepy."

  
"Not grossed out? Not scared?" Leon asked carefully, swallowing down the desire to immediately swallow Hop whole now that he was gaining ground. Don't ruin it. Things are looking promising.

  
"Why would I be scared?" Hop asked back. Leon was his big brother who always protected and inspired him, why should he be scared? This was all a little weird, sure, but he was obviously being considerate of his feelings and comfort. The lips against his twist with a smile he can feel and the hand on his knee gives a quick one-two squeeze. The bubbling feeling in his stomach turns warm and syrupy. Warmth seeps into his skin as the hand on his knee skims up his thigh, kneading the muscle up and down as if to massage away any last hesitance he had. Leon's little pecks become slow presses of the lips that are easy to follow and copy, the flavor of fruit juice and vodka lingering with the swipes of his tongue. Once his head becomes too heavy to hold up on his own, Leon even takes on that burden for him, cradling his chin in his palm and stroking the line of his jaw with his fingertips.

  
Even though his teeth felt tacky with the remains of sugar and his tongue felt half-numb, Hop was reluctant to push Leon off to ask to borrow his toothbrush. Even though he was seriously teetering on the edge of sleep, even though gravity swayed somewhere between his feet and his head, even though it was getting hard to breathe unless he kept his mouth open enough to let Leon trace sparks across his taste buds, he didn't want to put in the effort to complain. It felt nice enough. Leon would take care of everything. No sense worrying.

  
"Do you like it?" Leon's voice filled his throat, spoken to his lungs, tooth to tooth, "Do you want to keep going?"

  
"Maybe," Hop sighed, hip muscle jumping at the high and hard drag of a thumb, "Yeah." Nails dragged across the denim of his jeans, the hiss of air pulled through teeth raised hairs on the back of his neck and sent shivers down his spine. He felt unmoored, drifting, tingles racing over his skin with each press of fingers into his muscles, Leon massaging him into a dazed lump of placid pleasure. Purple hair curtained his face, wan lines of pressure at his collar pulling his focus from the sudden cold on his stomach. He giggled at the light touches up his ribs, echoed by Leon's rich laugh in turn.

  
Leon tucked the soft cotton fabric up under Hop's arms to keep it out of the way as he worked, hands splayed to frame his little brother's skinny chest just long enough to memorize. The tiny dark circles of his nipples perked with just a brush of his fingers, his chest hitched at a single knead of his pectorals. Hop was so sensitive, so cute, so perfect. His heart hammered, finally jumping to his throat with the eager anticipation of finally, finally, _finally_ fulfilling a lifelong love he'd tried again and again to give up on. Not hard enough, evidently, and thank Arceus.

  
Humming sleepily, Hop pushed his chest forward into the massage, dazedly enjoying the night even as his head lolls to the side. Leon kept kissing him, lips so tender and breath so hot, until he finally got a genuine (if muffled) moan from him. Then Leon paused. Sat staring, boggled. Once it had sunk in, he tucked his head into the crook of Hop's neck and pressed passionate kisses into his collar. Hop sighed and let his head tilt forward, nuzzling into the slope of his brother's shoulder. It made such a nice pillow, soft yet firm, and Leon's hair smelled so nice around him. He could just fall asleep right there, just like that...

  
"Ah-?" Hop whined, squirming at being pulled up by strong arms around his waist. Instinctively he wound his legs around Leon's body, wriggling closer as best his uncoordinated limbs would allow, lazily allowing himself to be bundled up and carried from the living room. The warm breath on his neck and arms supporting him soothed him; Leon was just taking care of him like always, putting him to bed like when they were kids and stayed up too late. Leon was too kind, too sweet, too considerate. His pillow smells just like Leon, of course it would, but it makes it all that much easier to reorient and doze right back off. Too sweet, much too sweet.

  
\--

  
Hop floated inside his head for hours, the comforting embrace of the void punctuated by waves of warm sparks and faint aches. Even without dreams, Leon's presence persisted and enveloped him, seeping bone-deep. Waves crested, swirled, pulled at his lungs, twisted and tightened just below his sternum, nausea budding and building. Air crushed out of his lungs tasting abruptly sour, panic seeping into his unconscious until the nausea overpowered the building tingling warmth in his gut and threw him into unsteady wakefulness. Something blocked him from bolting upright and running for the bathroom, his knee nearly bumped his cheek as he jolted to the side with the spastic rise of bile behind his teeth. He can't make it.

  
Fruity acid spilled over the sheets and down his cheek, his side cramping from the torsion as he grabbed the side of the bed and tried to drag himself over. What a mess. What a mess. What a _mess_. Stomach acid and vodka burned in the back of his nose, sweat prickled on his forehead and cooled on the triangle of his bare back not stickily glued to the bed, slick on the backs of his knees and ran up his thighs. A large hand smoothed back his bangs, a rough, breathy voice laughing pityingly above him as shivers wracked his bones.

  
"Aww, Hop...Sorry, buddy," Leon's grin was just barely visible in the dark room, inches away, "Don't worry. I'll clean you off and change the sheets when we're done."

  
Exhausted and confused, Hop nodded. His stomach doesn't hurt any more, even if the vague discomfort and somewhat sickening pleasure remain. He would deal with whatever was wrong in the morning. Regardless of the filth, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the void of sleep once again.

  
\--

  
Come morning, Hop's body had decided to revolt in a different way: His entire skull was pounding, his hips ached, and his spine felt stiff and twinged from mid-back down. To make matters worse, he was wearing an entirely different set of clothes than the one he wore over: Leon's smallest shirt he had on hand and a pair of boxers. His own outfit was lying, freshly laundered and folded, on the bedside table with a water bottle and a small red pill set on top of them. Shame washed over him, ribs seizing as he wondered what kind of mischief he made to need a full wardrobe change. Regardless, that had to be a painkiller and he needed it _now_ , so...bottoms up.

  
"Sorry, I wasn't trying to be a creep, but..." Leon called from the doorway, brows scrunched and lips lifted in a cringe, "I was, uh, kind of a shitty brother? I gave you way too much to drink and you threw up after I put you to bed. So. I had to clean up. Um," He leaned against the doorframe and dug his fingers into the back of his neck, eyes darting to the floor.

  
"Nonononono, not at all!" Hop immediately regretted shouting, his headache flaring up with a vengeance, "It's my fault for making such a huge mess. I'm so, so sorry. You're not...mad?"

  
"Nah, not at all! You're fine, I shoulda known better. Anyway. Uh, sooo," Leon waved Hop's protests off and swiftly redirected the conversation, his discomfort quickly melting away to an expression of curiosity, "Do you remember anything from last night?"

  
Hop froze, chewed his lip, took a sip from the water bottle, and nodded. Leon's eyes widened, the line of his mouth flattening. "Um...A little? We... Ki-kissed, and. You helped me to bed...Sorry, Lee..." Hop sighed and re-capped the bottle, setting it back on the table.

  
"Well, it's okay. It's fine to go wild once in a while!" Leon shot back, hand shooting up to cover the sudden sharp grin he couldn't suppress. Once he was able to rein it back in to his normal dazzling smile, he threw himself heavily onto the end of the bed and gave his little brother a meaningful look. "Anyway, we don't have to commit to it now, but you should give it some thought. If you liked it at all, we could. You know. Keep it secret, but."

  
"Date?" Hop asked hesitantly, eyeing the space between them rapidly shrinking.

  
"We don't have to put a name on it yet, but if you want," Leon replied, following Hop's eyes toward his encroaching hand. He didn't move it. "If you're willing."

  
"Maybe. I'd like...more times like that? If that's okay with you."

  
Leon's cheeks immediately sting with the force of his smile. "Of course! Absolutely!"

  
\---

Bonus:

Hop hadn't said _no_. He'd let Leon kiss him, touch him, leave red blooms under his collar. His skinny little ass hardly filled Leon's palms but his legs were long enough now to wrap fully around his waist. So good, so delicious. He even helped pull his shoes off with booze-clumsy fingers, hardly struggled when Leon took his pants, fell right back into the mood with the right touch...He was such a good little brother. And Leon was a good big brother; Leon took his time lubing and softening his hole up before making love to him. Even with all the preparation in the world Hop would've been crushingly tight, of course he would, so it was only natural that Leon would lose his cool and end up pulling Hop halfway into his lap or that he'd push a bit too hard. Maybe he should've expected it when Hop made a mess. He couldn't help it, he'd never gotten drunk before!

Being the good big brother he was, Leon cleaned it all up. After he finished, of course. Hop just needed a few soothing words and a reassuring smile and all was right as rain, his pretty golden eyes slipping closed as the gentle rocking lulled him back to sleep. So cute, so perfect. Maybe someday Leon would be able to really rail him like he wanted to, but for now... He peeled the sweat-soaked shirt off of his little brother and carried him to the bathroom. All he needed was a warm, wet washcloth and a little bit of soap to take care of the bright pink gluey mess smeared across his cheek and chin and the dribble of white leaking out of him. While he dried out in a fluffy towel, Leon ran the sheets and Hop's clothes through the wash and put a fresh dressing on the bed. Nobody would want to sleep in vomit.

Hop looked so adorable in his old clothes, tucked into his bed, innocent and unaware. Ahh, they'd have to do this again. There was no doubt about it: Leon was in love.


End file.
